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He tilted my head back to receive his kiss. There, on the sidewalk, he plundered my mouth with his tongue, tasting me.
“You look incredible,” he growled against my lips.
“You haven’t seen the best part.” I pulled away from him and turned so he could see that the formal blue dress had a short skirt and almost no back.
He trailed a finger down my spine and I shivered.
I turned around again and placed my hand on his chest, just over his heart. I felt the heavy drumming of its beat.
“You don’t look so bad yourself,” I quipped.
“You and your compliments,” he teased, bringing my hand to his lips. “You spoil me.”
His tongue grazed my knuckles, making me shiver.
The front door opened. “Hey, Duke, stop pawing your woman and get your asses in here!” Savage yelled.
Duke clasped my hand in his and we headed for the house. Every available space in the living room and foyer were graced with blooming white flowers and lit candles in glasses. There were photos in silver frames atop the mantle of the engaged couple. Nothing as formal as engagement photos, but pictures of them from other Blue Angels events and some where they weren’t even in the frame together. Pictures of them as children.
I pointed to a photo of Boxer when he couldn’t have been more than seven-years-old, his face covered in mud. “Trouble even then, right?”
Duke grinned. “No doubt.”
There was a small table in the corner of the living room stacked with wrapped presents of all shapes and sizes.
Darcy came down the stairs and stopped halfway. She wore a tight black dress that showed off her amazing body.
I hoped I looked half as good as her after I had kids.
That thought entered my head before I even had a chance to stop it.
“Well, that’s new,” I muttered.
“Hmm?” Duke asked, turning toward me.
“Nothing. Hey, Darcy,” I called.
“Hey.” She beamed. “You want to come upstairs and chill with us and the bride before the ceremony?”
“Love to.” I squeezed Duke’s fingers before letting go.
I followed Darcy up the stairs but looked back for a moment to find Duke watching me with a devious little smirk on his lips.
That smirk set a spark of pleasure between my legs.
Darcy opened the bedroom door and I followed her inside. The room was all Brooklyn. Sage green walls, heavy oak furniture built to last, and photos of her and Slash from their wedding. Joni and Allison were perched on the king-sized bed, talking in low tones.
“Where’s the blushing bride?” I asked.
“More like fuming bride.” Joni grinned.
I raised my brows. “Why is she fuming? And why are you laughing at her?”
“Because she’s a dirty rotten friend,” Doc shouted as she came out of the ensuite bathroom. She wore a dainty rhinestone head piece in lieu of a veil, and a bathrobe to keep her dress from getting dirty before the ceremony. She looked like a fairy queen with her pixie haircut.
“And why is she a dirty rotten friend?” I asked.
Mia stood by the dresser which she was using as a makeshift table. She popped open a bottle of champagne, poured a flute and then crossed the room to hand it to me. “Because Joni told her she wasn’t allowed to drink before the ceremony.”
